#IrishWriters
FOR every sin that comes before t… And leaves an outward blemish on t… How many, darker, cower out of sig… And burrow, blind and silent, like… And like the mole, too, with its b…
‘HE is false to the heart!' she… He promises fair as a tree in blos… The fruit is rotten ere ripe. Tea… All withered and wasted! and still… Comfort? There is no comfort when…
CLEAR and bright, from the snowy… The joyous stream to the plain des… Rich sands of gold were washed and… To the turbid marsh where its pure… From stainless snow to the moor be…
St. Patrick’s Day WHAT a onion of hearts is the lo… When races of men in her name unit… For love of Old Erin, and love of… The boards of the Gael are full t…
I am tired of planning and toiling In the crowded hives of men; Heart-weary of building and spoili… And spoiling and building again. And I long for the dear old river…
THE day and night are symbols of… And each has part in all that God… There is no ill without its compen… And life and death are only light… There never beat a heart so base a…
YOU have waited, Priests of Irel… You have stood with folded arms un… By the fever and the famine you ha… Till the whisper hissed through I… You have looked with tearless eyes…
LONG time ago, from Amsterdam a… As fair a ship as ever flung aside… Upon the shore were tearful eyes,… As to her, o’er the Zuyder Zee, w… And brave hearts, yearning shorewa…
Do you love me?' she said, when th… And we walked where the stream thr… And I told and retold her my love… While she listened and smiled, and… Do you love me?' she whispered, wh…
THE red rose whispers of passion, And the white rose breathes of lov… O, the red rose is a falcon, And the white rose is a dove. But I send you a cream-white rose…
THE day of Joseph’s marriage unt… In thoughful mood he said unto his… Behold, I go into a far-off count… To labor for thee, and to make thy… And home all sweet and peaceful.'…
O Beauteous Southland! Land of y… That hangeth o’ve thee slumbering,… The moveless foliage of thy valley… And wooded hills, like aureole of… Oh thou, discovered ere the fittin…
DIXON, a Choctaw, twenty years… Had killed a miner in a Leadville… Tried and condemned, the rough-bea… And watch him stride in freedom fr… ‘Return on Friday, to be shot to…
NOW, for the faith that is in ye, Polander, Sclav, and Kelt! Prove to the world what the lips h… The hearts have grandly felt. Rouse, ye races in shackles!
o The faithful helm commands the kee… From port to port fair breezes blo… But the ship must sail the convex… Nor may she straighter go.